Waterlogged
by Meredith-Grey
Summary: Futurefic. As a teacher Neville runs across a few familiar faces. Neville/Luna. Potter/Malfoy friendship.


**Title:** _Waterlogged_

**Rating:** _K_

**Date Written**: _8-12-08_

**Disclaimer**: _I do not own Harry Potter. It all belongs to Jo Rowling._

**Summary:** _Futurefic. As a teacher Neville runs across a few familiar faces._

**A/N:** _Written for _Charolette Lee_. It started out as a Neville/Luna but it sort of . . . evolved. Read and Review._

Neville Longbottom stood in front of the Hogwarts greenhouses, facing his first class of term. "Hello everyone," he greeted, "we're down by the lake today."

The majority of the sixth years adopted looks of discontent for walking so far out of the way, but many of them wore expressions similar to curiosity while they followed their Herbology Professor across the sloping, slightly unkempt grounds. A pale-faced boy snickered at the sight of his Professor's attire, turning to his dark haired friend and pointing out Neville's rubber waders.

As they approached the great, glistening lake a woman's profile came into focus. The group of sixth years halted their stroll a few feet from the water's edge.

"Let me introduce to you my wife, Luna Longbottom." Luna stood with her pale blue robes synched at the knee, her bare feet concealed beneath the murky water. "She will be briefly assisting us today. Say hello, class."

The mixture of sixteen-year-old Slytherins and Gryffindors responded in polite unison, "Hello, Mrs. Longbottom."

"Today we'll be harvesting aqualtus worms. Watch while Luna demonstrates."

Luna Longbottom reached into the gently lapping bank and shoved both her fists into the muck, quickly pulling them out and pausing to show the class her identical handfuls of worms before dropping them indifferently into the jar that Neville held.

"It's quite simple really," he explained. "You just plunge your hands beneath the skin of the bank and extract as many worms as you can get a hold of. When squeezed and boiled correctly they provide and excellent acne repellant. Now, I'd like everyone to pair up, two to a group, and grab a jar from over there," Neville pointed to a pile by a nearby tree.

The dark-haired boy waited patiently while his pale-faced companion collected a jar. There was a shuffle of students as some of them searched their pockets for gloves while others stared skeptically at the worms. After a few moments of disarray the sixth years settled into pairs.

"Who'd like to go first?" Neville cheerfully asked. When no one stepped forward Luna's eyes searched the group of students.

"Why don't you come and try," she pointed to the pale-faced boy, "It'll help with that spot on your face."

His hand instinctively reached towards the cold sore that had appeared that morning. A ripple of twittering laughter traveled through the students. "Well, alright," he consented, trying to appear coolly indifferent.

"Excellent!" Neville encouraged. "Malfoy, Potter, give it a go."

Scorpius Malfoy, in an attempt to display some bearing, passed the jar to James and descended into the sloshing water.

"Careful, mate," James Potter warned at the sight of a bright orange salamander slithering past his companion's shoes.

"Right," Neville chimed, "be careful for the salamanders. They're highly poisonous."

"How comforting," Scorpius muttered, queasily pressing his hands into the mud. He retreated quickly, clutching a smaller total of worms than Luna, but still a respectable amount.

"Well?" His Professor asked, "Tell the class how they feel."

"Probably a bit like spaghetti," James volunteered, watching the wriggling, electric blue worms through the glass jar.

"Right you are James. Not disgusting at all."

Scorpius snorted but it went unheard while the rest of the class began to tentatively collect the aqualtus worms.

"_These are revolting_," the young Malfoy hissed, shoving the squirming blue worms in the jar that James held.

"I don't know," James pondered loftily, watching the faintly moving blue mound, "they have potential."

Scorpius gaped, "As what, exactly?"

The dark-haired boy grinned maliciously, "Can you imagine these in Professor Weasley's bead?" James suggested, referring to Professor Percy Weasley who taught James' and Scorpius' least favorite subject, History of Magic.

"I swear, you should have been in my house," Scorpius said ruefully, his silver and green Prefect badge glinting while he shook his head at his friend.

**Fin.**


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